Letters Left Unsent
by PiperPaigePhoebe01
Summary: AU, spoilers for Sectionals. Will writes Emma letters, because that's the only way he can adequately express his feelings. It's just too bad he never sends them and someone else has to.


**Disclaimer: **I own nothing.

**Author's Note**: I've been wanting to write a fic about Will/Emma ever since Sectionals, but lo and behold, all of my best ideas were taken. However, this idea just came to me, and I thought it was absolutely perfect. So hopefully this is a little more original take on Sectionals.

**Summary**: AU, spoilers for Sectionals. Will writes Emma letters, because that's the only way he can adequately express his feelings. It's just too bad he never sends them and someone else has to.

* * *

**Letters Left Unsent**_  
by PiperPaigePhoebe01_

_Dear Emma,_

_It has been a little more than a week since you've left. Figgins is looking for a replacement, but no one is willing to take your spot yet. I think Figgins is hesitant to replace your position, because he wants you to come back too._

_I don't even know what to say, and I doubt I'll send this anyway. I was just walking past your office a few minutes ago, and it seemed so empty. The halls are quiet because Sue is suspended from the school, but it's not the same without you. I keep thinking I'm going to see you in the teacher's lounge eating lunch with Ken Tanaka, but when I walk there during my lunch hour, you're not there, and Ken is._

_I don't want to make you feel bad about Ken—God, that's the last thing I want to do—but I couldn't help mentioning him. I won't mention him any longer._

_I can't help thinking about what you said to me at your wedding reception. "Really, one look from you, Will, and I would have been out the door." And I can't help thinking about you saying that you can't look at me without feeling heartbroken._

_I'm so sorry, Emma._

_Words can't express how sorry I am that you left. I miss your mysophobic tendencies, and whenever I see your office, I remember how I scraped gum off your shoe that one time. Do you remember? Never mind, of course you remember._

_I just wish that I had realized things sooner. I wish that I learned about Terri sooner, or that she had come clean to me. I wish that I had gone after you that Monday a week ago, and made you stay. I tried to call you last night, but you didn't answer. Apparently your phone got disconnected, and there's no forward number for your new apartment._

_So I guess you left Lima._

_I can't blame you. I just left Terri and I know that you don't want to be waiting around for me forever. I just wish that you had given me more time even though I can't within good conscience ask you to do that._

_So I guess I just miss you._

_Sincerely,_

_Will Schuester._

* * *

Rachel shot a curious look in Mr. Schue's direction. Far from actively directing their choreography, like he was prone to do, he was sitting down as they worked through it themselves. He smiled at them when they did it right and congratulated them. When they did it wrong, he got up and led them through it, but the look in his eyes was not right.

He had that not-right look in his eyes right now.

"Okay, guys," he said, standing up. The dozen members of Glee club stopped and listened to him. "Let me walk you through this. If we're going to beat Vocal Adrenaline, we need to get this done."

He walked them through the routine, but his eyes were strangely distant, focused on some distant point in his thoughts. Rachel went along with it for a while, but then—

"Wait."

Everyone paused.

"What is it, Rachel?" Mr. Schue asked.

"No, what is it with you, Mr. Schue?" Rachel asked, crossing her arms over her chest. "You don't seem yourself lately. I would think you would be happy for us—winning Sectionals and all—but all you've been doing is moping around. You're barely present anymore, Mr. Schue, and we need a strong leader if we even have a chance at beating Vocal Adrenaline. You know that."

"Yes, I know that," Mr. Schue said, sighing. He looked around at them. "I'm sorry, guys, but I'm just not feeling much like myself lately." He paused. "I know we need to practice, but I think we all need a break for a while. How about we cut practice short today?"

Rachel opened her mouth to protest—_we need to practice, we need to __**win—**_but everyone else hurriedly agreed. As everyone grabbed their stuff and left, Rachel slowly packed her things together, waiting for Mr. Schue to leave before exiting the room herself.

He finally left, and Rachel followed him nonchalantly—she had to go that direction anyway, she rationalized to herself. She nearly ran into him as he suddenly stopped at the entrance to the guidance counselor's office, staring through the window for a moment.

He rested his head against the glass. From where she was, Rachel could see him swallow tightly. He took a breath, let it out slowly. The glass fogged up.

He stood there for a full five minutes.

Rachel silently walked past him, suddenly feeling like she had intruded on a highly personal moment.

* * *

He wondered if it was a bad thing that he missed Emma more than he missed Terri. He had counted every single day since that fateful conversation at the wedding reception, but he could only remember that time had stretched on increasingly slowly ever since he had found out about Terri's fake pregnancy.

He entered his motel room, dropping his jacket and bags on the floor. The divorce papers were on the small nightstand next to his bed, the ink dry from when he had signed them this morning. As he walked past them on his way to the closet, he could see clearly the spot where a single tear had fallen. It was right after the last, loopy R in _Schuester._

It reminded him of Rachel's affinity for putting a gold star after her name. The only difference was that her gold star represented her ambition, and his lone tear represented all that he had lost. And the still-wrapped present on the nightstand beside the divorce papers reminded him of all that he had let go.

* * *

_Dear Emma,_

_It's been a week and a half. Figgins has started interviewing people to fill your position. I've already seen about five file their way past your office, looking in the windows on their way to Figgins' office. And none of them can possibly fill your shoes._

_I can't see any of them putting their stuff in your office. It won't be the same without those strange brochures—where did you get those anyway?—and your tendency to regularly disinfect the entire office before leaving for the night. I can't see another person sit in your_ _chair, doling out advice to your kids. It doesn't seem right. None of it seems right._

_I am going to finalize my divorce with Terri sometime this week. Terri is reluctant and so am I, but it has to happen. I can't be with her knowing that I really_

Mr. Schue's pen faltered, and he almost wrote down what he was thinking but paused. He crossed the last sentence out.

_I can't be with her knowing that she lied to me. She understands that on some level, but she's not willing to let me go. I can't comprehend why._

_You said that I was a lot to lose when I told you about Terri. Well, I don't believe that. I'm not._

_I wish you had found a way to stay._

_Sincerely,_

_Will Schuester._

* * *

The letter went in the box with the other one.

* * *

Okay, so Finn might not be the smartest guy on the block, but he couldn't pretend not to notice that Mr. Schue was not acting the same. Sure, he had tried more ever since Rachel confronted him about it a week and a half ago, but there's something wrong with the way he teaches. In Spanish, he's not so energetic, and assigns a lot more work (which is bad, because basketball season is in full swing and he can't juggle a C grade, full Glee practice, and strenuous basketball drills all at the same time without something slipping).

Rachel told him that it had something to do with Miss Pillsbury, but that's all she would say about the matter. She threw herself into the choreography and almost seemed to take over Mr. Schue's job, telling them what to do even more than usual.

"All right, let's try _Seasons of Love _again," Rachel said.

Apparently, it was an oldie-but-a-goodie, in the words of Rachel.

The music began, and Finn started the song, Rachel harmonizing behind him.

_Five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes  
__Five hundred twenty-five thousand moments so dear__  
Five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes  
How do you measure, measure a year?_

The rest of the Glee club began singing.

_In daylights, in sunsets__  
In midnights, in cups of coffee  
__In inches, in miles, in laughter, in strife  
In five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes  
How do you measure, a year in the life?  
How about love?  
How about love?  
How about love?_

When the song ended, the first real smile appeared on Mr. Schuester's face.

"That was great, guys," he praised. "Wonderful job."

With the way Rachel shot a look in his direction worriedly, however, Finn knew that something was still not quite right with Mr. Schue.

* * *

_Dear Emma,_

_Three and a half weeks. Almost a month. It's been twenty-five days._

_My divorce with Terri got finalized last Friday. I moved out of our apartment and found a new place on my own. It's not the best—it needs some cleaning—but it's livable. Terri got the apartment to herself, which I was happy to give up._

_You got replaced this Monday. I entered the teacher's lounge this morning for a cup of coffee only to find a man sitting in your usual spot. He looks a little like Finn, tall and gangly. He seems nice enough, and the kids seem to like him—he lived in San Francisco for a while. But the only thing I can think of when I pass his office is the way you would go crazy if the stacks of paper on your desk were as haphazard as his are. _

_Speaking of the kids, New Directions is working on Seasons of Love, from the Rent soundtrack. Finn, Rachel and Mercedes all have huge parts in the song, but their harmonizations are amazing. You would be proud of them if you could see them now. Strangely enough, all the drama with Quinn, Puck, Rachel, and Finn seems to have dissipated slightly. I expect to see any pair of them kissing someday soon. _

_I remember you saying that you can't look at me without feeling heartbroken. _

_I think I know how you feel._

_You not being here seems to have left a hole in my chest, Emma, and I'm not sure what to do about it. The kids are noticing, even Finn, and Rachel's got an endless stream of questions in my direction. I know that things would just seem a little better if I could hear your voice, but I've looked everywhere. I've even Googled your name, but I can't find anything about you. And I think you have a new email address. And cell phone number._

_I just wish I could send these letters._

_As it is, the pile in the shoebox tucked away in a corner of my closet, is growing._

_Things at McKinley High seem to be going back to normal, but I still expect you to see you sitting on the bench outside the school, trying desperately to get that hunk of gum off your shoe, Cinderella._

_Sincerely,_

_Will._

* * *

A month later, and Will finally got up the courage to open up the present he had given Emma for her wedding.

He slowly brought it to his small kitchen/dining room table, putting it down. He lowered himself into the seat in front of it, eyes hard and determined. Slowly, he took the taped-on card off the present. _Emma and Ken _was written on the front, and without even looking at it, he knew what the card read.

_Dear Emma and Ken,_

_Congratulations! I hope that this will help you both in your lives together._

_Sincerely,_

_Will Schuester._

Slowly, and with the utmost care, Will unwrapped the gift, making sure the wrapping paper came away in one piece, even though he knew that he would never use that particular wrapping paper again. He opened the box, revealing the two figurines nestled in layers of tissue paper and packing peanuts. He took out the woman clothed in the flowing wedding dress first, placing her gently on the table in front of him. Then he took out the man, dapper in a tuxedo.

He remembered going into the store and buying these. He had been looking for something special that Emma—yes, he admitted that he was primarily looking out for Emma—would enjoy. He had seen them together on the back of the shelf, and it had brought him back to the little figurines that had been on his wedding cake. He thought they would enjoy them.

He didn't have a chance to figure it out.

Which was primarily his fault, with what Emma said.

"_He understood that... I wasn't doing it for the kids._" A pause, one second, two. "_I was doing it for you._"

With almost too much force, he pushed away from the table and walked into the bedroom. He slammed the door shut behind him.

* * *

_Dear Emma,_

_God. I don't know what I was thinking letting you go that day at the reception._

_I just finished opening the gift I had given you at your reception. There were two little figurines in there that I had made sure to thoroughly clean and disinfect before giving them to you, because I know how much you hate dust. There is a man and a woman at their wedding. The man, dark hair and all, is wearing a tuxedo and has his arm outstretched, probably to ask the woman to dance. The woman, with her red hair (I made sure to find a figurine with red hair), is curtsying in her white dress._

_They are now in the box in the back of my closet, nestled up on top of the letters._

_I've written you one of these letters every day ever since you left—and sent none of them. I could track you down—Figgins must know your address—but somehow, I don't think that would do much good. I'm on my own, and although Glee club is keeping me going, I just can't stand to see Mr. Yolsten in your place._

_Let me tell you a secret, Emma._

_You know that day? When you left?_

_Well, I was going to come after you. I realized that I couldn't let you go, that I needed you with me. In the words of the song New Directions sang when I came back that Monday you left, "my life would suck without you."_

_The only problem was that you had already left._

_And I tried going to your apartment, but either you weren't home or didn't want to answer, because I never got to talk to you. _

_Now you're gone and I don't know what to do._

_I miss you, Emma._

_I've never missed anyone more than I miss you._

_Will._

* * *

Months pass.

Every letter written went in the box.

* * *

It is after they won Regionals that Rachel decided to hold an intervention.

"There's something seriously wrong with Mr. Schue," she said as she stood in the front of the choir room, arms crossed over her chest. "He's better than he was months ago when Miss Pillsbury first left, but he's still not the same. And we just barely won Regionals, which won't cut it for States."

"What do you want us to do?" Quinn asked, now heavily pregnant. She rested her hands on her stomach. "Mr. Schue's not going to tell us anything. We've all tried."

"Yeah," Artie piped in. "All we get is that he's acting the same as usual."

Rachel smiled. "I have a piece of juicy information that I think you will all be sincerely interested in."

Puck raised his eyebrows. "Oh, yeah?"

"I happen to know Miss Pillsbury's new address."

Kurt put in his two cents. "And where did you manage to find that gem?" he asked, looking nonchalant as he filed his nails, but his eyes looked sharper than usual. "And what do you expect to do with that information?"

"Nothing, if that's all I found out," Rachel said, but then she brought a sheet of lined paper from behind her back. "I also found this under this piano the other day. Mr. Schue must have forgotten to put in his bag after he came back from Figgins' office."

"Is this what he was writing while we were practicing?" Santana inquired.

"I'd say so." Rachel grinned.

"What is it?" Brittany chirped.

"A love letter."

* * *

_Dear Emma,_

_My kids just won Regionals._

_I can't believe they beat Vocal Adrenaline. To be honest, I'm not sure how they did it. All I know is that they sang their hearts out there, and it showed. While Vocal Adrenaline had better dance moves, New Directions had more heart and pure spirit out there. _

_I remember how you took them to Sectionals._

_For me._

_Emma, I can't say how grateful I am that you did that for me. I just saw them dancing and singing their hearts out, and it just brought me back—to everything that had happened between us from the beginning of the year on. As soon as Rachel and Finn hoisted that huge trophy in the air, my thoughts ran through all of the moments we had together—and I know I should have realized your feelings sooner._

_I remember._

_Always I remember. _

_More than anything, I remember seeing you in that wedding dress. I remember only feeling like that once before in my life, and that was when I was twenty-four and saw Terri walking down the aisle toward me for the first time. It only took me this long—remembering everything we had been through together—to realize that the feelings that I used to have for Terri—those feelings of family, of love—have been transferred over to you. I suppose they had been there ever since our dance together in the bridal shop, but then—even before that._

_There are only two moments in my life that compare to the feeling that I had when I allowed you to walk away from me at the wedding reception._

_One is when I found out that Terri was faking her pregnancy, and nothing will ever come close to the feelings that I had when I found out she had been lying to me all this time._

_The other one is when I was on my way to the wedding reception._

_And I realized then that I had to leave my wife._

_No other feeling compares to that, except for the way I felt when you were crying and you walked away from me and I did not call you back._

_Emma Pillsbury, it took me half a year to realize it, but I am in love with you._

_Maybe if I had realized this sooner, it could have gone somewhere, but doubtless you are off somewhere better, making a life for yourself with someone else._

_You said that I was a lot to lose._

_The truth is that you're a lot more to lose than I am._

_Love,_

_Will._

* * *

New Directions did not read the letter, but they did—with the help of Rachel—decide to send it to the post office. There were a few objections, but Rachel shot them all down.

"We might be meddling, Tina, in something that's not our business, but personally, I'm sick of seeing Mr. Schue mope," Rachel said. "It's been four months, and he's acting a bit like a girl about all of this. I'm going to do something about it, and there's not much you can do to stop me. My gay lawyer dad could sue you for even trying."

Tina just gulped and nodded.

The following day, Rachel sent the letter.

* * *

Emma's heart skipped a beat as the letter came in the mail.

Her heart skipped another beat as she started reading.

When she got to the end, she had to sit down.

As she did, a small slip of paper came out of the envelope. Reaching down to pick it up, she smoothed it out. To her surprise, the note was not in Will's handwriting.

_Miss Pillsbury,_

_Please come back to Lima. Mr. Schue needs you; he's not been acting the same at all. He's acting quite a bit like a lovestruck teenager to be honest. He divorced his crazy wife and now he's crazy over you apparently. So get back down here, please. We need him if we're going to take States._

_Yours truly,_

_Rachel Berry. _

Emma stared at the note.

She made her decision in a second, and only when she was halfway to Lima three days later did she bother second-guessing herself, but then it was too late.

* * *

_Dear Emma,_

_I have no more words._

_I've exhausted them all. _

_I love you and want you to come back._

_Love,_

_Will._

* * *

"Is she coming?" Finn asked as he entered the choir room.

"Shh," Rachel hissed.

Finn looked around curiously, but only when Mr. Schue's voice come from behind him did he realize.

"Is who coming?" he asked as he walked into the room. He dropped his stuff down in the nearest seat, clapping his hands together. "All right, Tina, Artie, front and center. Let's work on your duet for that invitational next Friday night."

As Tina started singing, Rachel leaned over.

"It's a go," she whispered. "She's on her way."

"How do you know?" Kurt hissed.

Rachel took a small, folded up piece of paper from her bag. Quietly, she read it to them: "_I'm on my way. I don't know why, but thank you. Miss Pillsbury._"

"I got it Sunday."

Quinn grinned. "Great."

"Then this Saturday is when it happens?" Santana asked.

"This Saturday is when it happens."

* * *

_Dear Emma,_

_It's Saturday._

_Six months after you left._

_I'm thinking about stopping these letters. I know I'm never going to send them, and it's just a waste of time. You're gone and I have to come to terms with that._

_I just wish_

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Will paused in mid-sentence, putting the pen down.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Will sighed. Who could it possibly be? Barely anyone knew he lived here, except for Figgins, and that was only because he needed to know for record purposes.

Knock. Knock. _Knock._

The knocks grew more urgent.

"I'm coming!" he called.

The knocking stopped. Will pushed away from his desk, walking over the door. He pulled the door open, then his eyes widened.

"Rachel? Finn? Puck?" he asked. "What are you doing here?" He looked around, noticing the rest of New Directions congregated around his door. "What are you all doing here?"

"We have someone to show you," Finn said, grinning.

"Someone?"

"Yes, someone," Rachel said, her smile so wide it looked like it might split her face in two.

"Someone you haven't seen for a while," Quinn added.

"Who?"

They didn't answer out loud, instead choosing to simply step aside. They revealed—

"_Emma_?"

"Hello, Will."

* * *

_Dear Will,_

_I am an hour away from Lima, and I couldn't go any further. I just don't know how I am going to face you again, knowing what I know now about what you have been going through since I left. I don't even know what to say, and I don't think I will ever know what to say. Even when I am standing at your door Saturday morning, I don't know if there's anything I could say._

_So that's why I'm writing you this letter. You couldn't contact me in any other way but in a letter, so I suppose I could reciprocate._

_When I saw your letter in the mail, I wasn't sure what to expect. I didn't expect to hear from you, and I'm still not sure if I wanted to hear from you after all. The fact that I left Lima to prevent being around you is not a fact that can be easily denied._

_But I couldn't help reading the letter._

_Gosh, Will, I don't know what to say. I'm sorry that you ended up leaving your wife, and I'm sorry things haven't been going well for you. I'm sorry about everything, and I'm glad that you won Regionals, but I'm sorry that I wasn't there to see it. I'm sorry that I put you through all this._

_I'm coming back to Lima, yes, but I'm not sure what I'm going to do._

_I love you too, Will. That's all I know, and when I see you in person, I'm not sure if I will have the guts to say it out loud. That's why I'm writing it all down._

_Love,  
Emma._

* * *

"Why are you here?" Will asked as he shut the door behind Emma.

Emma looked around the small, decrepit apartment, taking off her jacket. Will took it, placing it on the hook on the back of the door.

"Not that I'm not glad to see you, because I am," Will said. "God, I am. But I don't see why you're back now after all this time."

"I got your letter," Emma said, staring at the dusty bookshelves.

Will had been on his way to get a duster, having noticed Emma's stare, but paused mid-step. "What letter?" he said, voice soft. He stared at the unfinished letter on his desk and hoped that she wouldn't notice it. He walked over to get the duster.

"The letter you sent me about a week ago," Emma whispered.

"But I never sent you a letter, Emma."

_What letter is she talking about?_

"Yes, you did," Emma said. She reached into the bag she carried at her side and took out a sheet of paper that looked familiar. "Here."

Will took it, scanning through the first few paragraphs. His throat tightened, his heart constricted in his chest. He suddenly felt caught.

"Oh," Will breathed.

He knew immediately how this letter had been sent. He had not been able to wait, so he had started writing it down while everyone else was celebrating. Then Figgins had called him down to his office to raise their budget because of Regionals and—he must've forgotten to go back and get it.

A Glee clubber must have taken it.

And sent it.

"I—never sent that letter, Emma," Will said. "Someone in Glee must have found it, I—"

_Have never sent any of my letters to you _was what he almost said, but he stopped himself just in time. He got the feather duster and walked to the bookshelves.

"I see," Emma said. "I thought so, after I also got a letter from Rachel with it. But I just had to make sure."

"I'm sorry," Will said.

"You said you loved me in that letter," Emma whispered.

Slowly, Will turned to face her.

Emma's face.

He had seen that face once before, in a dream—or perhaps a dream of a dream. Or a dream of a nightmare. Her face took him back to that time at the reception, her hair in an elegant updo, her eyes filling up with tears right before his own eyes.

And her words.

"_I can't. I can't see Ken without feeling ashamed, and I can't see you without feeling **heart**broken._"

"Emma," Will breathed.

"Will, did you—"

But she stopped. She turned.

"No, I'm sorry," she said. "I'll just... go. This was a mistake, I never should have come."

_**No**_.

She had already left him once, but she was not going to get away from him this time. Will dropped the feather duster on the floor, abandoning it. He reached for Emma's arm, hand closing gently around it, tugging her away from the door.

"Don't leave," Will said.

Emma didn't say anything, but he thought he heard a sniffle. He turned her around to face him. Tears were glistening in her eyes, and as he looked at her, a single tear fell from her eyes. Will wiped it away, but kept his hand on her face.

"Emma, I—I'm the one who should be apologizing," Will said. "After all this time, it took me so long to realize, and now it's too late."

"Too late for what?" Emma asked, almost against her better judgment.

Here it was.

The moment of truth.

Will took a deep breath, opened his mouth.

"I love you, Emma Pillsbury."

Emma let out a sob. "_Will_," she whispered.

Will couldn't stop himself. He put both arms around her waist, tugging her closer to him, and then put his lips on hers. Emma froze in shock for a moment, the salty taste of tears mingling in with the kiss, but then she brought her hands up to his arms.

The kiss ended too soon.

Will pulled away.

"I love you," he said again. "And there's something I have to show you."

* * *

The shoebox was taken out of the closet.

Emma spent two hours reading through all of the letters, and when she finished, tears were falling down her face in a steady stream. As Will silently put the last one before her—the one he hadn't finished writing—Emma's tears dried, and a small smile came across her face.

She set the letter on the top of the pile, turning to Will.

"What do you wish?" she asked.

"I wish that I had gone after you that day," Will said.

Emma nodded. "I wish you had too." She paused. "Did you mean it? Everything you said in those letters?"

"Every word."

Emma nodded, and a bigger smile spread across her face.

"Will," she breathed.

"Emma?"

"I—" She took a deep breath, as if readying herself. Then she whispered it. "I love you."

Will's lips were on hers before she even had time to finish her sentence.

* * *

_Dear Emma,_

_I love you._

_Will._

* * *

_Dear Will,_

_I love you too._

_Emma._

* * *

When Emma and Will entered the school together the day Figgins gave Emma her job back, Rachel turned to the rest of the Glee club, and her expression said it all.

_We did it._

* * *

And finally, those two letters were not left unsent.

* * *

**Author's Note**: Okay, so who needs to schedule an appointment with their dentist after this? I honestly didn't expect this to get so fluffy and sweet, but it did. I hope I stayed true to the characters, and I also hope you enjoyed this. I just thought this was an interesting take on what could have happened after Sectionals, as I didn't want to write the standard "what-were-they-thinking-during-the-kiss" story, because I've already read so many amazing ones.

But anyway, please tell me what you think?


End file.
